


Haunting Silence (w/ Podfic)

by TheOraclesCorner



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Anxiety, Anxiety Attacks, F/M, Gen, Ghost Reader, Non-binary Reader - Freeform, Original Character(s), Other, Panic Attacks, Podfic, Podfic Available, Podfic Cover Art, Podfic Length: 0-10 Minutes, ghost - Freeform, ghost character, ghost!Reader, non-binary, reposted
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-06
Updated: 2020-08-06
Packaged: 2021-03-06 06:27:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,010
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25608868
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheOraclesCorner/pseuds/TheOraclesCorner
Summary: Ever since their last case, which ended in the horrific loss of their friend, tension loomed over the Winchester brothers.Refusing to talk about it, they’re left haunted by the memory and the way they failed their friend. Little did they know, it’s not the only thing that haunts them.
Relationships: Dean Winchester/Original Female Character(s), Dean Winchester/Reader, Sam Winchester/Original Female Character(s), Sam Winchester/Reader
Kudos: 10





	1. Haunting Silence (PodFic)

**Author's Note:**

> You could listen to the fiction on youtube as well!

**Fic:** Haunting Silence by The Oracle's Corner ****

 **Fandom:** The Witcher ****

**Ship(s):** Sam Winchester X Reader [Platonic], Dean Winchester X Reader [Platonic] 

**Rating:** General Audience 

**Stream:  
**[Youtube](https://youtu.be/zsYj0eEqHVU) (w/text)

  
  


  
  
  
  
  
  



	2. Haunting Silence (One Shot)

It has been a hard couple of weeks for the Winchester brothers and there is a cloud of tension that loomed over them they rather not address. That was how things were for them for a while now.

And it can be avoided, of course, if they only talked to one another. But instead, they sat alone in mourning blaming themselves for the faith of their friend. 

They never really spoken about it; it was too painful a memory to bring up, but that didn’t stop them from replaying it in their heads, and then go on about how they could have fixed things if they could. 

They haven't fully mourned their friend’s death either; they never had time. They were always busy with the next case after all. Typical of the Winchesters isn’t it?

The self-loathing, the guilt and the avoidance of a certain important discussion didn’t make for a great mixture of things. Anything could tick them off. Even each other.

Which is why they are constantly fighting one another. If they  _ spoke _ to each other this won’t be much of a problem, but they didn’t. They yelled about any minor inconveniences, isolated themselves and self-sabotaged each case they went on to the point that they may have gotten the chance to apologies to their friend personally. 

Their attention was divided, and they did nothing about it. It seemed like they prefered it that way. Cause what other option did they have? Confront the issue? Doesn’t seem like a thing they would do. 

It was a painful sight to any onlooker. Especially the ones who you don't expect to be there. The ones that would love to extend a hand to help you but have no means of doing so.

For them, this onlooker is the person they believed they have forsaken.

The friend, they have lost. (Y/N) (L/N).

They couldn't see her, hear her and let alone feel her presence. It was as if she were a ghost. --The irony of that statement.-- She would try to get their attention by moving small objects or sending a breeze their way, but that is all it was to them, a small breeze. A moving object.

Though they live in a world surrounded by the Supernatural, the thought hasn't crossed their minds that their friend might be with them.

But would it have been a good thought? Would it have put their minds at ease? To know that their friend couldn't pass on for one reason or another?

We wouldn't know.

Cause while they could ponder the possibility of it being a reality, they are busy with the next case. The next hunt. The next opportunity they have to avoid mourning her, of thinking of her, and how they failed her.

It's not their fault, but they blame themselves as if it were.

And so they began a cycle; of taking up cases to distract themselves with tension so thick not even divine intervention can cut through it, and with arguments that start up at any moment of the day. It’s no wonder they’re not getting anywhere.

And so that is where they are now. In a room, in some old rusty motel on another case, amid another meaningless argument.

It was toxic, it was sickening and it was revolting.

(Y/N) wanted to tell them to stop. To look at what they are doing and face the actual problem at hand.

But they can't hear her.

Her attempts were reduced to repeated begging for the fights to cease. To a mantra turned prayed for a God that she doesn’t believe in to save her from this hell.

_ She wished. _

_ She prayed. _

_ She begged. _

But it all fell onto deaf ears.

The words repeated only to be drowned out by the sound of the heated argument. She repeated the words until they long lost meaning.

_ Please let it stop. _

_ Please let it stop. _

_ Please let it stop. _

No reply.

No one paid her any mind.

The argument grew heated. Punches were thrown. 

Tears ran down her face as she curled onto herself. Her head was pounding her breaths were short --did she even need to breathe? She can even think about it because she was busy trying to hold herself still because was trembling on the floor.

She wanted to leave this hell that some unknown circumstances put her in. She didn’t care where she went. Cause frankly, anything is better than this, right?

Anything is better than watching two people she loves, go at each other's throats and hate themselves every living moment while they run themselves to the ground because they don’t want to think of where this all has started because it will destroy them if they do.

But watching is all she can do. 

And unlike them, she can’t run from it. 

She is stuck.

Stuck having to deal with it, hear them arguing, to repeat prayers that no one will heed. She is stuck, and she is tired.

She repeated the words with her last grain of hope. Hope that is draining by each passing day, but what more is there that she could do? As tears continue to fall, as hope depletes from her system, as hateful words fill her head? The question repeats, what more is there that she could do?

_ Please, just stop. _

_ I beg you. Please stop. _

_ Don't fight. _

_ Just stop. _

_ Stop. _

_ Stop. _

_ Just-- _

_ SHUT UP. _

And it all went silent.

No noise.

No sound.

Just silence.

She froze as if a movement from her will break the silence. As if it will break this one peaceful moment that she's been praying for what seems like an eternity.

But then it still broke.

Like fragile glass, it broke.

By a word.

By one word, she wasn’t expecting to hear.

By a name, she wasn’t expecting to hear.

"(Y/N)?"

  
  



End file.
